Forgiven, Not Forgotten
by Laine3112
Summary: Co-written with Lyn1410G. Ziva’s return to DC and the MCRT seems a foregone conclusion but has the hurt, the suspicion and pain been so easily erased? Can the team rekindle the trust or has it been irrevocably damaged? NO TIVA HERE! SPOILERS S7 Eps 1 & 2.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or any of the characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Author's note: **This will be a series of five 'one-shots' from the pov of McGee, Vance, Abby, Gibbs and Tony. An introspective look at the way each individual is dealing with Ziva's return to DC and whether their relief at her safe return has magically erased the hurt.** Written in collaboration with Lyn1410g**

**FORGIVEN – NOT FORGOTTEN**

**McGEE**

Tim McGee sat back in his chair and took a moment's break to flex the tension from his neck and back. Over the past few months, he'd become so accustomed to the extra fieldwork that being "desk-bound" again was playing havoc on his protesting muscles. Still, paperwork and reviewing cold cases were a necessary part of the job.

He glanced around the bullpen, his eyes flicking surreptitiously from Gibbs to Tony and finally to Ziva. He recalled the steady stream of faces that had attempted to lay claim to that desk during the last few weeks and felt a stab of guilt. Although he hadn't consciously done anything to make them leave, he'd certainly done nothing to make their transition into the MCRT any easier. Now, he believed, the rightful owner of that desk had returned and the team was back together.

A vivid memory of overwhelming relief came crashing back to him. He'd been lying on the floor of a bunker, feigning unconsciousness, when he heard her voice. As much as he tried to believe she might still be alive, secretly, he had feared the worst.

He wondered if she truly realised the impact her actions and her absence had on the team.

Once Tony's broken arm had healed and he was cleared for full duties, they had continued to work cases as a three-man team. The extra time in the field, processing crime scenes, following leads and interviewing suspects meant less time at his desk and he welcomed the change and the opportunity.

Almost overnight, his relationship with Tony seemed to morph into a more equal partnership, the sting had gone out of their teasing and the easy camaraderie was something he'd enjoyed. They'd even started sharing the occasion meal after work hours.

He supposed things would change now that Ziva was back, he'd be riding the desk again.

Embarrassed and ashamed of his moment of selfishness, he quickly dismissed the thought – he would let Tony superglue his butt to the chair permanently if it meant things could return to normal.

He angled his head a little so that he could watch his senior field agent sitting hunched over a stack of papers on his desk. Those months without Ziva had been hard for all of them but none more so than Tony. Despite his best efforts to pretend that he'd moved on from the whole Rivkin affair, his 'performance' lacked its usual flair and every now and then cracks would show. Underneath the over bright smiles and typical DiNozzo wisecracks, he knew that his senior agent wore his misplaced guilt like an albatross around his neck.

That Tony felt responsible for Ziva staying in Israel was obvious. The simple fact of the matter was, had Ziva_ not_ asked Gibbs to choose between her and Tony, she would have been back on the plane to Washington where they could have dealt with the issues as a team.

A small spark of resentment cut deeply into his thoughts as he recalled those first few days without her. The pain, the confusion and the doubt could all have been avoided if she'd trusted them to help and the more time that passed without a word from Ziva, the more broody and distracted Tony had become. Not knowing if she was dead or alive was gnawing at his gut.

When Tony told him that he wanted to do some digging, he'd agreed to help - hell he'd almost been _relieved_ to be doing something and it was good to see that purposeful spring back in Tony's step. They pooled their information with Abby and systematically started to trace Ziva's whereabouts.

"The Damocles went down – there were no survivors".

Gibbs words had dropped like stones into the silence of Abby's lab, crushing their hopes of finding Ziva alive. The look on Tony's face had been tortured; his last opportunity to locate Ziva and to attempt to repair their damaged partnership was now lying in the depths of the ocean off the coast of Somalia.

Life went on after that, they caught some cases, investigated them all, closed a few and throughout, Tony seemed to be on automatic. He was going through the motions - there in body but not in soul and not really attached in any emotional way. It was like watching a slow burn as Tony's regret and grief turned to a desperate thirst for vengeance.

For his part, he'd watched with trepidation, he'd seen that sort of internalised burning anger before when Gibbs had gone after Ari.

He didn't know whether to be alarmed or thankful when Tony had finally stood up and told Gibbs that they had to _do_ something. Convincing Vance and Gibbs had been easier than he expected, especially considering the highly risky plan that would hopefully lead them to Saleem Ulman's camp, somewhere in North Africa.

He _should_ have been angry that Tony had volunteered him to go; the risk was enormous and hinged on so many assumptions that he didn't want to consider. It _was_ practically suicide. Knowing that Tony had faith in him, that he knew he'd want to be involved and that they would do this together- whatever the outcome - had instead filled him with pride.

Was he afraid? Hell, yeah, he was terrified. Despite knowing that Gibbs and a crack team of US Navy personnel were taking up position outside the bunker, there were so many variables that could have gone wrong and could have led to his and Tony's deaths. But as much as he also felt the need to extract revenge for the loss of his team mate, McGee felt it was equally important to prove to Tony that they trust his judgement and his skill and they know that he _always_ has their back.

So, while he did what he did for Ziva, he did it for Tony, too.

He glanced again in Ziva's direction and their eyes met briefly. She offered a rare shy smile before returning her attention to her work. He looked over at Gibbs then across to Tony before returning his gaze to Ziva, feeling the subtle change in atmosphere as they all worked quietly.

Is he glad to have her back? Absolutely.

Is he willing to overlook past transgressions? Without doubt.

Is he confident that the four of them can work together again as a team? Yes, he is.

Does he think they will ever completely leave this behind them? – Not for a long time - the hurt cut too deep.

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**Thanks for reading. Next chapter - Vance.**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or any of the characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Author's note: **Love him or hate him - but had Vance not successfully argued the plan to go to Somalia with the Joint Chiefs, Ziva would not be back in Washington. The following is our account of some of the thoughts and feelings Director Vance experienced during this tumultuous time. **Written in collaboration with Lyn1410g**

**FORGIVEN - NOT FORGOTTEN**

**VANCE**

Director Leon Vance stood on the mezzanine landing, silently observing the scene below, his thoughts his own and his face as inscrutable as ever. The bullpen where Gibbs' team worked was oddly quiet, only the occasional shuffle of papers and clicking from McGee's keyboard breaking the silence.

Where was the chatter, the incessant banter that seemed endemic to this team? His eyes strayed to DiNozzo, only the back of his head visible from that angle. For a man who seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut, he was unusually quiet as he waded through the pile of cold cases stacked on his desk.

He looked over at McGee, saw the surreptitious looks that the IT specialist sent his co-workers and knew that the young agent had also noted the strained atmosphere.

Despite their more unorthodox methods, Gibbs' team had the highest case closure rate in NCIS with a consistently high volume of investigations each month. Their ability to anticipate and operate as one entity was due, in no small part, to the ease with which each team member worked with the others.

He wondered how that cohesiveness would be affected by the events of the passed few months. The team had certainly moved heaven and earth to get her back…but would the old adage 'be careful what you wish for,' be their undoing?

Turning to his left, he gazed pointedly at the team leader; his attention focussed on his computer, and wondered if even Leroy Jethro Gibbs could hold this team together.

Despite David withholding crucial information from the team regarding a murder investigation, Gibbs had kept her position on the team vacant in the hope of her return. There was also the fact that she'd never revealed she'd been ordered to kill her brother and gain Gibbs' trust. He recalled the momentary shock and disbelief that he glimpsed in Gibbs' eyes when he told him. It was clear that the man was reluctant to believe but he'd seen the doubt that his comments had sown…and _still_, he insisted that she be allowed to return if that was her wish.

A few days after Gibbs' decision to leave David in Israel, he'd spoken to Eli and confirmed that Mossad had placed her back in the field on assignment…but then she went off grid.

He was aware that Gibbs had been calling in favours to try to trace her whereabouts and he was not ignorant of the anxiety felt by the remaining members of his MCRT as each day passed without contact.

It was difficult for fathers like Gibbs and Vance to understand how Eli could send his own daughter into any kind of danger. Ziva David was a Mossad officer and had been for many years. A highly trained operative, assassin and spy – someone who considered her work as her duty to her country and her people. She knew and accepted the risks involved.

When the usual channels of information proved futile, he attempted to go to the source and contacted Eli David for information on his daughter. Eli was unusually solicitous and guarded in his responses and he quickly concluded that Mossad were up to their collective necks in something heavy.

He referred to Eli David as a friend – with his counterintelligence background, he called many people friend - but that didn't make it true. His training and experience proved that, sometimes, you could extract more information by appearing to extend the hand of friendship. Had he demanded information from Eli, it would have been counterproductive – not counterintelligence. He had to tread carefully; Eli was no fool – despite his embarrassing admission of duplicity while attempting to interrogate DiNozzo recently.

DiNozzo. He turned his head again to look at the senior field agent sitting - uncharacteristically still - at his desk. Now there's a walking paradox if ever there was one. He was unpredictable and had a smart-ass attitude but he was damned effective as an agent. He lures you in with his goofy, frat boy behaviour but the minute you underestimate his ability or his worth, he's got you on toast.

When word leaked through that Ziva David had been a part of a Mossad team aboard the Damocles and was lost at sea, he was saddened but a small part of him hoped the team had closure and could now move on.

Before he knew it he was attending briefings and listening to the findings of his MCRT and his forensic specialist. They were determined to locate and neutralise Saleem Ulman, the leader of the terrorist cell thought responsible for the sinking of the Damocles and for the death of their ex-team mate.

He's aware he's not well liked among his people and he's comfortable with that. He's not here to win any popularity contests he's here to run a federal agency. Yet, somehow, against his better judgement, he found himself in deep discussions with the Joint Chiefs and SecNav - wading through a veritable minefield of diplomatic and military red tape, to make a case for his people. The intensity with which he'd argued their case surprised even him. He'd known that if he was unable to get clearance for this operation and secure the required military support, his agents would go in anyway and most likely be killed.

He was relieved to find that he and Gibbs had been on the same wavelength. With a little nudging DiNozzo soon joined them and the "circumstances were changed" to allow their mission to proceed. The plan was sketchy at best, suicidal at worst and almost entirely dependent on DiNozzo's ability to bluff, baffle and bewilder his capturers long enough for Gibbs and the Seal team to get into position.

His gut tightened as he remembered giving approval for this mission. God help him - had he just sent these agents to their death? Waiting for news of their success was excruciating and, steeling his expression, he offered a silent prayer of thanks as he watched the bruised and bedraggled team members exit the elevator and move toward their desks.

Ziva stood and crossed the office to the copy machine and he shook his head slowly as he watched her progress.

How confidently she had marched into his office to discuss her future with the agency. She certainly had a nerve, barely a glimpse of remorse for the trouble her actions had caused this agency.

He was not prepared to accept her display of bravado as proof that she was ready to resume work. She may think she's ready to resume active duty but he would expect some PTSD to manifest itself in some way. She was a strong woman, her survival proved that, but she was not invincible and if she were to resume her position, she would do so under his terms.

He cringed inwardly at his use of the term 'damaged goods'. He could have been more sensitive to her situation but he needed her to know that, regardless of her recent hell, his primary obligation was to this agency. Yes, it was tactless and blunt but David, herself, did not deal in subtleties - anything less and she may have disregarded it.

He was quietly impressed at the tenacity it took for her to face him and ask for her position back. "Have I not been a valuable asset to NCIS?" she asked. "Without doubt," he replied, biting his tongue to stop from adding 'as was Agent Lee, right up to the time she forgot where her allegiances lay.'

Perhaps he should have seen this coming. He was aware of the events leading to the appointment of her Mossad Liaison position and had discussed them with Eli David. He was never a fan of the position but it was a legacy of the Shepard administration. Since his appointment as Director, he had kept a close watch on her. He was not convinced that she could faithfully serve two masters but she had given him no cause to doubt her – until the Rivkin situation.

Once again, it was Gibbs who pleaded her case. Despite the deceit and finding out she'd played him, Gibbs had firmly stated that the team needed Ziva. While he agreed she was a good fit in the MCRT, he was yet to be convinced that was enough to overlook the circumstances that had led them to this point.

She had passed her psyche evaluations by the skin of her teeth. Given the world of hurt she had endured, it was impressive she had passed at all. The fact that she had been rescued by NCIS and had no contact with her father or Mossad since her rescue, he had hoped that the issue of her allegiance had been resolved once and for all.

Her reinstatement handed him a world of sensitive diplomatic issues and red-tape headaches. He was going out on a limb and hoped she was worth the risk.

He felt the steely gaze of the team leader, appraising him suspiciously, and exchanged a curt nod.

One thing was certain, with Gibbs now knowing she had been under orders to kill her brother - regardless of her reasons for keeping that from him - he sensed he was not the only one who would be watching her closely.

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Thanks for reading! Next chapter - Abby


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or any of the characters and no copyright infringement is intended. **

**FORGIVEN – NOT FORGOTTEN  
**Written in collaboration with Lyn1410g

**ABBY  
**  
With her hands fisted on her hips, Abby tapped her foot anxiously and urged Major Mass Spec to quickly finish processing the last chemical compound analysis of the night. She was coming down from her frantically busy, caffeine-injected day and the thought of a restful night's sleep in her warm and comfortable circa 1870 coffin, drove her impatience.

Realising the Major refused to be rushed; she sighed deeply and hauled herself up onto the workbench. Stifling a yawn, she leant her elbow on top of the much-loved, industrious machine and cradled her head in her hand. She was exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. The torrent of emotions she'd endured over the past few months had left the usually frenetic and vivaciously effervescent forensic specialist feeling bone-weary and downright melancholy.

She loved her work and she loved her lab. She knew every computer, every microscope, every hi-tech piece of equipment like the back of her hand. Her forehead creased in a frown when she held her hand in front of her face and noticed a freckle she'd never seen before.

Okay…so maybe she knew her lab _better_ than the back of her hand.

She gazed fondly at her beloved artwork, the shotgun shattered backbone and the Draino affected duodenum and the ice pick to the cerebellum were among her personal favourites. A framed photo caught her eye and she slipped off the workbench to take a closer look. She smiled warmly at the image, in spite of her weariness and her rather bleak mood. The photo of Gibbs' extended team that, of course, included Abby, Palmer and Ducky, had been taken at a restaurant a few nights after Tony returned from his tour as Agent Afloat.

Wow! The team was reunited and everyone looked so happy! Timmy had wrapped his arms around her protectively as they laughed uncontrollably at some silly joke. Ducky looked distinguished as ever, despite the fact that a very tipsy Palmer was leaning heavily against him. Tony's gorgeous grin was matched by the rare heart-stopping smile of her Silver Fox.

_'Boy, could these guys light up a room or what?'_

And there was Ziva…her beautiful dark eyes shining with happiness at having everybody back where they belonged – they were a team again.

Now, barely twelve months later, the team had been reunited again. However, this time the unbridled joy and laughter was replaced by awkward tension, false smiles and an undercurrent of mistrust, raw hurt and unanswered questions that she feared could ignite at any moment and tear them apart again.

She used to enjoy this time of the evening when the frenzied pace of her day had slowed and she waited for the last of the test results. She would use the lull in frantic activity to catch her breath and reflect on her day before planning the feverish pace of her night. But all that changed when a man named Michael Rivkin was killed and all of their lives spun wildly out of control.

She replaced the photo and looked to the "Welcome Home Ziva" banner, still hanging from the ceiling in her lab. She'd left it there to remind them all, how incredibly fortunate they had been that not only Ziva, but also the rest of the MCRT had returned from Somalia alive.

In a very male dominant workplace, she had unexpectedly found a close friend in Ziva and had enjoyed their occasional nights out or sleep-overs. They would drink too much wine, eat way too much chocolate and ice cream and laugh and laugh, discussing private women's business until the small hours of the morning. She hadn't done that with anyone since Kate's death.

Sure, she had lots of female friends but none that would truly understand the pressures and the emotions they experienced each day in their jobs. Yes, there was Sister Rosita and the bowling nuns but the last time she had tried to discuss private women's business with them, she had been rapped over the knuckles with a ruler and received a penance – and she wasn't even Catholic!

She had known that Ziva had started seeing someone when she had returned to Israel a year ago but Ziva had never mentioned his name. Despite their closeness, Ziva had rarely shared information about her family or private life.

When Tony had asked her to help him to identify and then confirm his suspicions about Mossad Officer Michael Rivkin – who turned out to be Ziva's boyfriend – she had felt dreadful going behind her back. However, if there's one thing she had learned over the years, it's that Tony's instincts were rarely wrong and, so, she had agreed to help. She never doubted for a moment that Tony's motives were anything other than wanting to protect his partner.

Her heart broke for her friend and she imagined the sorrow and grief Ziva felt when Tony had been forced to kill Rivkin. She badly wanted to provide comfort to her friend in the aftermath of his death but in her grief, Ziva had immediately raised her defences and allowed no-one access. Within hours, Ziva, Gibbs, Tony and Vance accompanied Rivkin's body back to Israel and the opportunity to provide comfort had to wait.

She recalled the day that she and McGee had decrypted Rivkin's email account and learned he had been working with Mossad contacts in Washington. A gamut of emotion, from disbelief to shock and anger, assailed her when she found that Rivkin had sent several emails to Ziva's restricted NCIS account. This confirmed Tony's suspicion that Ziva not only knew Rivkin had killed a federal agent but had withheld vital information from the team.

She closed her eyes and felt the tension painfully return across her slim shoulders. 'W_hy hadn't she gone to Gibbs? The Bossman would have known how to help her!'_

Forcing Gibbs to choose between her and Tony was just crazy! Of course he was very fond of Ziva but Gibbs would always choose Tony. They're like Batman and Robin, Starsky and Hutch, Shaggy and Scooby – okay…maybe there's nothing shaggy about Gibbs, especially with that military haircut and all, but Tony and Scooby were practically twins!! Both were playful and goofy, had big puppy dog eyes, and were unquestionably loyal and trustworthy. If Ziva hadn't forced Gibbs to choose between them, she could have come home and they could have sorted out this whole mess and moved on with their lives.

When they returned from Israel one short, she was devastated.

She just couldn't understand why Ziva hadn't asked Gibbs for help. Yes, she had strong feelings for Rivkin but she _knew_ he had _killed_ a federal agent. She had trusted Gibbs to help clear her a few years ago when she had been framed for murder by that crazy Iranian chick, why couldn't she trust him again?

She walked quickly around her lab and sighed with relief as her gaze fell upon a grey furry hippo named Bert. She hugged him to her chest and smiled sadly as the sound of Bert's faux-flatulence rent the silence in the room and provided her a strange comfort.

God, how she'd missed her friend! Despite her anger and confusion she had tried desperately to reach Ziva in Israel – she needed to know that she was okay; she needed to tell her that she was cared about and missed. No matter how she tried, there was no reply and she wondered whether Ziva was avoiding her, too!

The news that Ziva was on assignment for Mossad brought more mixed emotions – relief that her friend was not simply avoiding her and fear and concern for her safety.

She knew that everybody missed Ziva, no matter what they said or how they behaved. Sure, the cases kept coming and the MCRT went about their work as usual but she could tell that Ziva's absence and her lack of contact, was a concern to all of them – particularly Tony.

Her own concern for Ziva morphed into anger every time she looked at Tony.

How could Ziva accuse him of murder, of _deliberately_ killing Rivkin out of jealousy and then tell Gibbs that Tony had betrayed _her_?

In true DiNozzo style, Tony had donned his nonchalant mask and got on with his job, but she had known him too long to be fooled. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes and when it did, there was something almost brittle about it. She knew that he was hurting under the mask; she could see the pain and the frustration of being wrongly accused by his own partner.

_You just don't treat family that way!!  
_  
She thought back to when Ziva had first started at NCIS and smiled ruefully. She hadn't liked her at all and was in no hurry to get to know the woman who had replaced Kate on the MCRT. Even Gibbs had initially not wanted her on the team. Predictably, McGee had been his big ol' soft hearted self and was courteous and polite, but, strangely, Tony had been the one to immediately welcome and accept her. Despite her previous role as Ari's Control Officer and despite the fact that her 'charge' had been responsible for the death of his partner, Tony had extended the hand of friendship and had watched her back from day one.

A loud beep from the Major caught her attention and she leaned across to make a few adjustments and reset the test parameters before resuming her wait.

She was so relieved when she learned that Tony, McGee, Director Vance and Gibbs had all been trying just as hard to try to find Ziva. She knew they wouldn't give up until they'd found her and confirmed that she was okay.

And then it happened…they learned that the Damocles, a freighter that Ziva had been travelling on, had been lost at sea off the coast of Somalia. There were no survivors. To this day the vivid memory still reduced her to tears – it had been like losing Kate all over again.

Once again her conflicting emotions had run amok as she grieved the loss of her friend. The deep sorrow of Ziva's presumed death jockeyed for position with the overwhelming anger of being denied the chance to say good-bye. By far the most dominant emotion was regret that the situation may have been avoided if only Ziva had been totally truthful with them.

She remembered how they had all tried to move on, focussing on their work as a form of solace. They caught a few more cases and tried desperately to put the matter behind them but it was Tony who reminded them they had a responsibility to Ziva that they needed to fulfil. She had been killed on her way to take down a terrorist's camp led by Saleem Ulman and, needing something to at which to direct their anger and grief, they concentrated all their efforts on finding information that would lead them to its location.

When she finally heard the sketchy details of their mission, she was terrified. Tony was a cop for God's sake and McGee was an IT Specialist! What were they thinking? They were neither trained nor equipped for such an assignment. Sure they had their federal agency training and experience but they were not military. Her Silver Fox was a Marine but even he wasn't getting any younger.

She was inconsolable as she stood with Ducky and Jimmy and watched them leave the office for Somalia – knowing she may never see them again and ruing the day Ziva had become involved with Michael Rivkin.

She had asked Sister Rosita and the bowling nuns to pray for her "guys" and spent all of her spare time with Ducky or Jimmy – avoiding the bullpen and the sight of the empty desks at all cost. She'd almost squeezed the stuffing out of poor Bert before the Director broke the news that the team was on their way home – and Ziva was with them. She had to hand it to the Sisters, when they got busy with their rosary beads, they could pull off a miracle! No wonder they were the reigning champions in their bowling league for three years running!!

She had never been as proud or as relieved as she'd been, watching her "guys" bring Ziva back to the bullpen. Despite being told that Gibbs was unharmed and Tony and McGee would be fine, she quickly ran her eyes over every visible inch of them, knowing deep down, that she would never have forgiven Ziva if one of them had been seriously injured or killed.

And then she saw Ziva. The haunted, empty look in Ziva's eyes and a heart-breaking fragility she'd never before associated with this strong, self-assured woman. She could not imagine the horrors that she'd suffered during her captivity. All thoughts of anger and regret of past actions were momentarily forgotten as she stepped forward to comfort her friend and gently embraced her.

After her debriefing, NCIS arranged the necessary medical attention, counselling and temporary accommodation for Ziva. But then, weeks had passed and they were no closer to resolving the issues that had torn the team apart and almost cost them their lives.

This had to stop now! There were things that needed to be said, transgressions that needed to be addressed, apologies to be given and accepted and shattered friendships and trust that were waiting to find a place to start to heal.

She had planned her whole speech well before asking Ziva to come to her lab. It was high time someone pointed out that Tony's actions were that of a concerned partner and friend and not some jealous, spurned maniac determined to rob Ziva of any chance of happiness. He totally did not deserve her accusations or her claim that he'd betrayed her. He had taken the first step by risking his life and helping to get her home – now it was her turn to prove her worth and acknowledge her mistakes.

But somehow, when Ziva had walked into her lab, her relief at the sight of her friend overwhelmed her once again and her well-rehearsed speech became a mish-mash of indignation and understanding. Still, she was confident that she had managed to get her message across.

Major Mass Spec finally let out a long series of beeps, letting her know that he had finished his work for the evening. She jotted down the results and, with an affectionate pat and a whispered "sleep tight", she switched the power button to the off position, reached for her bag and her car keys and gave Bert a final hug for the night.

She stopped for another look at her team photo. Her friend was home and the team was reunited again but she was acutely aware that the devastating events of the past few months would take time to heal. In Ziva's case, some wounds may never heal completely. But she was certain of one thing; she would be there for all of her friends as a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold - every step of the way.

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**A/N:- **Many thanks for the kind reviews and the alerts. We're very grateful. Laine and Lyn.

**Next chapter - Gibbs**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or any of the characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Author's note: **As stated previously, these character introspections were written to take place after the first two episodes of Season 7. We believe that, in reality, each of these characters suffered in their own way and each would have had their own doubts and misgivings over Ziva's return. Something that seems to have been 'disregarded' in episodes 3&4 and in our opinion, seriously undermined these wonderfully strong characters. That's showbiz!

**FORGIVEN - NOT FORGOTTEN **

Written in collaboration with Lyn1410g

**GIBBS**

Leroy Jethro Gibbs reached above him and took down the bottle of Jack, pouring a generous measure into the empty jar. He tossed it back in one swallow, grimacing slightly as the liquid burned the back of his throat and closed his eyes as the warmth settled in his gut.

Slowly he dragged the folded sheets of paper from his back pocket and opened them on the workbench. He squinted, leaning closer as he tried to focus on the print in front of him, felt around for his glasses and finding them, pushed them onto his nose and quickly skimmed the results of Ziva's psyche test.

Leon had been right; the emotional and physical trauma that Ziva had suffered in the past months had definitely left their mark. She'd achieved the minimum requirement for reinstatement to duty – due in part to the counselling she'd received since her return to DC and equally to her sheer determination to rejoin the team.

All that remained was for the Mossad liaison position to be ratified.

Tossing the papers onto the bench, he pulled an old saw horse – its' edges chipped and stained – from underneath and sat down, his legs stretched out in front as he nursed the bourbon in both hands.

She'd lied to him. He'd asked her about Rivkin, and she'd confirmed that he was Mossad and that she knew him, but had not worked with him for sometime.

Now that he thought about it, her words had been carefully chosen to withhold the fact that she and Rivkin had become personally involved. So, yeah, she'd lied to him alright – a lie by omission but still a lie and not something he could or would tolerate from a member of his team.

Why? What was her motivation? If she'd _truly_ believed Rivkin to be innocent, that he was not operating illegally within US borders, why had she withheld her knowledge of his whereabouts?

She'd always had a choice. The choice of telling him what she knew and trusting NCIS to handle it, to deal with Rivkin's innocence or guilt accordingly or to turn to Mossad. She made the wrong choice and in doing so, set in motion a sequence of events that ultimately resulted in Rivkin's death and injury to her partner.

He looked at the papers lying discarded beside him and slowly shook his head. Now, after everything she wanted back on the team. Should it be that easy?

Tossing back the last of the bourbon, he stood up and grabbed the broom that leaned against the nearby wall. He'd finished work on his boat a few months ago and had successfully moved it from the basement to a mariner in Alexandria. Since then, he'd swept this floor until it shone, finding the sweeping action allowed him to think more clearly.

He, as much as anybody, understood Ziva's wish to keep her personal life private and she was certainly under no obligation to inform anyone on the team that she was seeing Rivkin. But once it had become clear that Rivkin was involved with the LA investigation, her obligations had changed.

Her failure to provide the information she held about Rivkin's movements and activities was a clear example of the conflict caused by the controversial liaison position. Nobody could faithfully serve two masters.

He recalled that day in Israel when he'd waited for Eli David outside the room where Tony had been seated. The Mossad director had demanded and been granted the right to 'interview' the NCIS agent who had shot and killed one of his officers. Before that happened, he had spoken with David, and made sure he understood that, although he'd not protested Tony being summoned to defend his actions, he would not tolerate any reprisal for Rivkin's death. Particularly against an agent whose motivation had been the safety and wellbeing of his partner – Eli's daughter.

He'd made a point of telling Eli that Ziva was "one of us", but had she ever been?

When she left the observation room he followed her and somehow knew she was seeking Officer Hadar. He watched with interest as they argued, saw her violently reject his accusation that she'd knowingly covered for Rivkin. Ziva was beyond reason by now, desperate for someone to blame for the loss of her friend and unwilling to accept any responsibility of her own.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Abby called. She and McGee had been able to retrieve information from the laptop found in Ziva's apartment. They'd also translated a number of emails from Rivkin to Ziva's secure NCIS account.

The evidence was damning, _still_ he'd been prepared to take her back to Washington.

But she'd forced his hand. She'd waited until they were about to board the transport back to DC and then asked him to choose between her and Tony. He'd seen the uncertainty and sadness in her eyes, felt the strain that trembled through her as she faced him, knowing that her father stood watching, just a few yards away. As much as he respected and cared for her, as much as he recognised her confusion, she needed to remember who she could trust and he would _not_ allow her to dictate the conditions of her return, especially at Tony's expense.

His thoughts turned to his senior field agent and the accusations that had been levelled against him. He knew that DiNozzo was dealing with his own demons right now but he was confident that Tony's actions had only ever been based on his gut and that gut had told him his partner had a mess on her hands. Given the same circumstances, he wouldn't have acted any differently.

When they'd returned to DC and Vance had pressed him about choosing a replacement, he'd wanted to wait – to give her time to grieve and work through the events in her head, to come to her senses. There was still a place for her if she wanted it.

Then Vance told him that Ziva had been under orders to kill her brother and his initial reaction had been disbelief. No way had she been acting under orders, he was there, in this very basement when she'd fired the fatal shot that had saved his life. He'd seen the grief in her eyes, heard the sorrow in the Hebrew words that she sang as she sat and prayed by Ari's body.

But…no matter how he wanted to deny Vance's words, the seeds of doubt had been sown.

He still cared enough to be concerned about her and secretly hoped there would be an opportunity for her to return – an opportunity for her to explain her actions and her deceit. He wanted and needed to hear it from Ziva. She had to have a plausible explanation for her lie about Ari and why she'd withheld her knowledge of Rivkin's presence in the US.

When they hadn't her from her in over two months, he'd used his contacts to try to locate her, to make sure she was okay. He may have left her behind physically but not emotionally.

He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when he'd walked into Abby's lab to find his team had been working their own leads, trying to find her. Despite the circumstances surrounding her departure, they all needed to know she was safe.

Tony appeared to be the driving force when, by all accounts, he could just as easily have turned his back and walked away. She'd certainly given him plenty of reasons why he should. They'd been partnered together for four years and in that time he'd unquestionably had her six. But now she'd questioned that and it had to have hurt. Still, he was unable and unwilling to let her go without setting the record straight between them.

When they received word that the Damocles had gone down and taken a team of Mossad operatives with it, the loss that he felt was bitter. By rights, he should have considered the matter closed, grieved and then moved on. He threw himself headlong into their current investigations but the ache of unfinished business gnawed at his gut.

It was almost a relief when Tony jacked up. Something the younger agent had never done before – not in public at any rate. He'd always respected and appreciated the fact that Tony was man enough not to shy away from questioning him or calling him on something he felt was wrong. But he always made certain he did so privately and not in front of everyone in the bullpen. That he'd chosen to do so, had only given weight to his objection, so he told him to make his case.

They worked with a renewed passion, searching for the terrorist leader Saleem Ulman. He knew first hand, the overwhelming need to extract revenge for a lost team-mate. He'd been proud as Tony made his case to Vance and watched as the younger man's triumph turned to frustration when the director explained that it still wasn't enough to get approval.

He'd looked at Vance's face, met his eyes and knew that this was one of those rare moments when he and the other man were on the same page. He knew also that it wouldn't take much for Tony to understand what was now required.

His team had given him many moments to be proud of them over the years but none more so than when Tony volunteered his own and McGee's services for an operation that was just a _small_ step from suicidal.

The team leader hadn't even had to think about it – if they were going in, he would have their six and if they were going down, then he was going down with them.

Vance had come through. The political arm-twisting and ass kissing required gaining sanction for a mission of this sensitivity was enormous. As much as he'd had past doubts about their new director's agenda, he had to acknowledge that on this occasion the team had his full support.

He recalled the adrenalin that fired his blood as he waited – face down in the dirt – disguised in a desert ghillie suit. From his vantage point on a nearby rise, he'd watched as Tony and McGee had driven into the camp, seen the men who'd surrounded them and saw them beaten unconscious and dragged inside. It had taken every ounce of restraint that he possessed not to intervene, the enormity of the risk that they were taking never more real than at that moment.

But they got their miracle. Each played their part to perfection and they brought Ziva back to D.C. where she could receive the necessary medical attention and counselling to help her come to terms with her ordeal.

Yesterday, when she was able, she called at his home and asked for his blessing to return to the team and he asked if she had lied about Ari. He had to know the truth and he saw it there in her eyes. She _had_ been acting under orders when she'd pulled the trigger and killed her brother.

His gut twisted. 'If she could kill her own brother to access NCIS and gain his trust, what else would she be prepared to do?'

She said that she'd accepted the mission to protect Ari, that she honestly did not believe that he had killed Kate. He was her brother and she loved him, she would do anything to protect him. But when she'd learned that she'd been wrong about Ari, that he'd been plotting against Israel all along, she'd shot him to protect Gibbs.

Her actions four years ago had been the foundation of the bond they had formed, a terrible and personal truth that they alone shared.

He had accepted responsibility for Ari's death, thinking he was protecting Ziva from probable serious repercussions from her father and from Mossad. He had been wrong and she had done nothing to correct him.

What was her purpose in lying? If she'd told him that she lied to hide her shame, that she couldn't bear the thought of people knowing what she'd done, he could have accepted that, but she offered no explanation.

Yes, this was the action of the old Ziva, the Mossad assassin and spy, not the Ziva they knew, the Ziva who was a member of his team. But then, new Ziva had lied too.

Regardless of how indebted he'd felt when she saved his life, he hadn't wanted her as part of his team. She was a trained killer, not a crime scene investigator but his objections were brushed aside and he was ordered to accept her on the team. Had she also manipulated her friendship with Jenny to gain a liaison position within the agency?

She had proven to be a valuable asset. Partnered mainly with DiNozzo, she was willing to tolerate his unique and unorthodox methods and more than capable of holding her own against his goofing around. He allowed a small smile to twist the corner of his mouth as he thought of some of the stunts that were 'just part of the day' when working with Tony.

She worked well with McGee too, was a quick learner, brought her own skills and abilities to the team and –once the chain of command issues were made clear – had given them no reason to doubt her loyalty to NCIS or to her team mates – until the Rivkin situation and the order to kill her brother came to light.

Had the powers that be at Mossad, including Eli David himself, been laughing at him the whole time?

Had Ziva? He was fiercely protective of his professional credibility and now he knew that it had been irreparably tarnished four years ago when he was taken for a fool.

Yet there she was – desperate to return to work as part of the team and seemingly healthy, despite her hellish ordeal. She appeared more fragile and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her and a rage burned inside him for all she had been forced to endure.

And then she said it…"the closest thing I have to a father is accusing me."

His eyes strayed to the photograph on the nearby shelf, his gaze softening as it traced Kelly's lovely smiling face. The muscles in his stomach tightened as he replayed her words in his head, seeing again the tearful expression as she pleaded for his understanding.

Could he take her comment at face value? Was it more manipulation?

His gut was telling him 'no' but he'd trusted his gut when she killed Ari and found he was way off.

Is she telling the truth now or is she a consummate actress?

Is she worth the risk?

When Macey had asked him that a few months ago the answer had been 'absolutely' but now…,

Will he ever _really_ trust her again?

He hoped so…time would tell.

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Thank you for reading and for your kind PM's, reviews and alerts. Lyn and Laine

**Final chapter next - TONY**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or any of the characters and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**Author's note:- **Without doubt, one of the greatest challenges of this story, was to replay the same events for five chapters without our readers feeling they were trapped in Groundhog Day. We hope we have captured enough of the featured character's personalities and "possible" thoughts to make the story, plausible, interesting, thought provoking and entertaining.

**FORGIVEN - NOT FORGOTTEN** - Written in collaboration with Lyn1410g

**TONY**

Tony swung his long legs over the side of the bed and stood up, feeling around in the dark for his old OSU sweatshirt. Finding it, he dragged it over his head and padded on bare feet to the small kitchen where he filled a glass of water and downed it in one long swallow. Eyeing the digital readout on the clock above the stove, he cursed softly.

Great! 0300 hours. His interrupted sleep patterns had become a real problem, something he'd have to address pretty soon before his work started to show the ill effects.

Re-filling the glass, he wandered back into the living room opening the sliding glass doors that led to his tiny balcony. He stepped out and moved to lean with both forearms against the balustrade.

The street below was dark, hardly any traffic at this time of the morning. His frequent bouts of insomnia over the past few months had resulted in him becoming an expert of early morning activity in his neighbourhood. A flashing yellow light and droning engine announced the arrival of the sanitation truck and he turned his head to watch it pull around the corner onto his street. He pressed the button on his watch, illuminating the face – the guys were ten minutes late today.

Yesterday, Ziva had worked her first full day since her return to the team. When he and McGee had arrived in the office, there she was - potted plant in hand, personal belongings strewn across her desk and smiling serenely as though she'd never been away.

He'd been shocked at first, Gibbs hadn't said a word about her return and he thought that her chances of rejoining the MCRT were negligible. But it had felt right, seeing her there at her desk, the same desk that had held a variety of replacements in the time that she'd been gone.

He stopped for a moment and spared a thought for the unfortunate agents who'd applied for and been trialled in Ziva's position. It wasn't that he'd actively tried to get rid of them; he had just been himself really. Could he help it if they couldn't take the teasing, the snooping and the witty repartee? The fact that his sidekick not only encouraged but also willingly joined him in 'welcoming' the new members seemed only to further their annoyance and hasten their resignations.

Just as well, too, they didn't accept just anyone on Team Gibbs, you know!

So, after the initial surprise at finding Ziva at her desk, they'd settled down to work some cold cases, review the files and hopefully see something that had previously been missed. In the past, there'd have been some lively conversation as they tossed ideas and scenarios back and forth, but the silence in the bullpen had been oppressive.

He knew he wasn't the only one to feel it; he'd felt McGee's eyes on him once or twice and caught the younger agent staring thoughtfully at Ziva numerous times.

'_How the hell were they going to work like this?'_

For what felt like the thousandth time he replayed in his mind, the events leading to Rivkin's death.

Initially, finding out about Ziva's new man had been a game, a challenge. Although she called it childish and annoying, he called it honing his investigative skills – just as he'd done many times with Kate and McGee. He'd set himself a personal challenge - could he irritate the Mossad super spy enough for her to lose her cool, slip up and inadvertently reveal more details of her mystery man?

He noted that each time he'd casually asked about him, Ziva immediately went on the defensive, evading further questioning by accusing him of jealousy. Obviously, she didn't want to play – no matter, he was persistent.

Her uncharacteristic overreactions had confused him at first but only served to make him more determined to find out what was going on. Ok, so the game was over but now he was acting out of concern. His gut feelings may not have been as legendary as Gibbs' but he knew his partner well and he instinctively knew that there was more going on than a desire to keep her private life out of the office.

Her behaviour became more suspicious when Gibbs and McGee went to LA to work a case with NCIS OSP. She'd taken a call and spoken Hebrew. He'd suspected that it was the same heavily accented man who'd called earlier. Then she left the office under the guise of following a lead, asking him to cover for her. When she finally returned - hours later – the lead hadn't panned out and she was strangely unreceptive to his attempts at conversation. Did she honestly believe he couldn't tell when she was distracted, worried…or lying?

When Ducky mentioned that she'd almost been killed in Morocco he was stunned. He realised that it was during his stint on board the USS Seahawk but why the hell had no one mentioned it to him? He'd made an excuse and gone directly to MTAC hoping to watch the tapes of the news broadcast. He was surprised at the anger he felt when he saw her, stunned and bloodied from her injuries. And then there he was, the same man that he'd seen on the photograph that he found on Ziva's desk some months ago.

Abby ran the image through the facial recognition program and got a hit within seconds. Michael Rivkin, an Israeli banker according to his visa records. Then Abby found a photograph of him leaning into the car window of Mossad Director Eli David.

So, Rivkin was Mossad, exactly what was he up to?

When he arrived the next morning and was called to MTAC it was to find that Rivkin had been implicated in the death of two terrorist cell members in LA. He told the OSP team that he was Mossad and that Ziva would vouch for him. He'd felt her go strangely still beside him as Rivkin's face appeared on the screen and watched her reaction with interest as she unflinchingly confirmed that Rivkin was an officer of Mossad. She offered no further information.

Despite being told to leave the country by Special Agent Macy and by Gibbs – Rivkin did not comply. When Abby told him that Rivkin had booked a flight to Tel Aviv via Washington, his gut told him the rest – he was with Ziva and she was in way over her head.

He had given her several opportunities to ask for his help but each time he had been vehemently rebuffed by the old jealousy line. He'd asked her straight out if she knew where Rivkin was and she told him no but he could see the lie in her eyes.

When he'd asked would she tell him if she did know, she had answered no again and then told him she would tell Gibbs – that proved to be another lie. His frustration with her stubborn refusal to talk to him, to let him help was enormous.

When a federal agent from the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement was killed in the grounds of SecNav's home, the team followed a trail of evidence to a terrorist "handler" by the name of Abin Tabal.

Throughout the investigation, Ziva continued to receive calls and speak in Hebrew, obviously hoping for secrecy. Though he feigned disinterest, he was careful to listen for any words that he may recognise and when she, once again, suddenly left the office, he'd used the translator program on his computer to determine where she was going.

Sneaky? Yeah.

Invasion of privacy? Okay…he'd cop to that but it was no more intrusive than her snatching the cell from his hand to see whom he was speaking with – at least he had _tried_ to be subtle.

His thoughts had turned to Jeanne and the painful, gut-twisting confusion he'd felt, the inner conflict that occurred when his personal life crossed over with work.

He recognised that confusion in his partner and so he'd gone to the restaurant and had seen her with Rivkin. To avoid a scene, he had called her back to the office then made it clear to Rivkin that he should leave the country on the first available flight. By the time he'd got back to the office he was pissed. Pissed at Rivkin and his big mouth and pissed at his partner for the "Agent Meatball" description that he suspected could only have come from her.

One look at her face showed that she was pissed too. Well good. She'd had her chance to handle things and had failed to do so.

But once again, she played the jealous card. Talk about your healthy ego! What was that about? They had never had that kind of relationship.

Flirtatious? Yes.

Innuendo? Plenty.

Sexual attraction? Come on – she's gorgeous, he's only human, right?

Did he care about her? Of course, she was his partner and friend!

But did she really believe that he would willingly deny her a chance for happiness, simply because she had chosen another man? And if he had been as infatuated with her as she kept telling him he was, surely he would have made a move by now. Lord knows, he was no shrinking violet!

By the time the team had located Tabal, he had conveniently committed suicide and his suspicion of Rivkin increased tenfold. It was just too neat, too convenient.

Sensing his concerns about Rivkin, Gibbs approached him and he told the team leader that Rivkin was still in town. He hadn't been surprised that the Boss already knew. After all – this was Gibbs – military haircut, all-powerful gut, probably wears a big red 'S' beneath his under shirt.

When Gibbs told him to 'stay on it' he'd known his Boss shared his concerns about Ziva's involvement with Rivkin.

When Abby checked the network location memory of the laptop found in Tabal's possession and found that it had been connected recently via Ziva's home internet account, his blood ran cold. How could that be? It had to be Rivkin; _this_ was the proof that he needed that Rivkin had been involved in yet another killing. But how much knowledge did Ziva have of Rivkin's activities and if he took this information to Vance would he be implicating his own partner?

He signed out a company car and drove to Ziva's apartment, he had to try to talk to her again and help her if she needed it. He had been determined to convince her that Rivkin had played her and he'd hoped he could persuade her to go to Gibbs.

In hindsight, maybe he should have taken the information to Gibbs first and let the lead agent decide how to proceed. But he had tried to protect and cover for his partner and he'd wanted to give her the opportunity to explain before the excrement hit the fan and the Director hauled her in.

Rivkin was alone in Ziva's apartment when he'd arrived. He had drawn his weapon and his handcuffs to place Rivkin under arrest when he'd attacked him.

He'd always thought of himself as pretty scrappy, blessed with a sharp wit he could talk himself into and out of most situations but when you're lying on the floor with a broken arm and a 200 pound Kidon operative comes at you brandishing a shard of glass and with murder in his eyes – the time for talking is gone.

Twice he had yelled for Rivkin to stand down and twice he'd failed to do so. Rivkin had been standing directly above him when he fired four shots from his weapon into his chest.

Unconsciously, his hand reached for his left arm and rubbed the now healed radius that had been broken in the struggle. Even now he could close his eyes and vividly recall every detail of the fight and see the shock, turn to accusation and then hatred in Ziva's eyes as she burst through the door and realised what had occurred.

The sound of a woman's frantic voice and running footsteps drew his attention to the street again and he watched as the redheaded nurse from the apartment block next-door chased after the number 765 bus to University Hospital. It looks like everyone was running late today.

The following 48 hours had spun wildly out of control. He had drawn enormous strength from the absolute faith he'd seen in the eyes of his Boss and knew he had Gibbs firmly in his corner as he reviewed his account of events for the Director.

Hours later, they had flown to Israel to face the wrath of the Director of Mossad, Eli David – Ziva's father - and to return Rivkin's body. Ziva steadfastly refused to make eye contact with him as she sat by the casket at the back of the aircraft.

Throughout it all, Ziva had maintained that he had deliberately killed Rivkin out of jealousy. He'd been angry and hurt that after four years she could think so little of him. Would he kill Rivkin just because she cared about him? No one who knew him well should have ever needed to ask.

He'd been accused of murder before – in fact, that particular scenario seemed to be a recurring nightmare in his life. Firstly by the FBI - bound by law to follow the trail of evidence but even Fornell didn't _really_ believe he was guilty. Well, maybe Agent Slacks did but who cared what he thought anyway? The second accusation came from Jeanne, in retaliation for his deception and the heartbreak that his long-term undercover assignment had caused her. And then Ziva…his partner.

A small part of him had desperately tried to accept that it was easier for her to accuse him of jealously rather than to accept that Rivkin's feelings for her may not have been genuine. But she did more than that…she accused him of cold-blooded murder and betrayal – even after she'd heard her father's admission to Rivkin's motives and his mission.

He'd been a cop and from his first day as a rookie the cop ethos of watching your partner's back had been forever ingrained into him.

He had known she was devastated and conflicted when he tried to speak with her in Israel. Still, he'd needed to make her understand that he did what he did to protect her - that he had gone to her apartment to warn her of Rivkin's motives and nothing more.

He had expected the anger and even more accusations of jealousy. He hadn't expected her to knock him to the ground and point her loaded weapon at his gut. He hadn't expected the hatred reflected in her eyes when she told him that 'perhaps she would' have preferred that Rivkin had killed him instead. Each accusation and each hate-filled look was like a kick in the guts. Had he misread the depth of her feelings? _Did_ she really love Rivkin?

He'd desperately needed to get out of Israel and back home to the US. He'd hoped that, maybe, away from Israel, Mossad and her father, they could sit down together and reach some kind of resolution – partner to partner, friend to friend.

He had almost run onto the plane in his eagerness to leave Israel. He never thought he'd be happy to endure 12 hours on a cold, rattling transport – even seated next to Director Vance.

He remembered his initial confusion when Gibbs boarded the transport alone and signalled to the crew that they were ready for take-off. _"Boss? One short?"_ Even as he had spoken the words a feeling of utter despair overwhelmed him. When Gibbs did not make eye contact, he realised that he was the reason she was not returning to DC and his fervent hope to clear the air between them was lost.

He'd lost count of the number of times he'd picked up his cell to call her. Everyday that passed, confirmed that she had not wanted contact with him. He'd tried to accept her decision and her need for space and concentrated on his job.

Suddenly, weeks had passed and nobody, not Abby, not Ducky, not McGee, had heard from her. There just had to be a reason, some thing or someone was preventing her from making contact and he was determined to find her to ensure she was okay. When he, Abby and McGee started to trace her whereabouts he had been relieved to finally be doing something to find her. Soon after, they'd found that she had boarded the Damocles, headed for Somalia as part of a Mossad operation.

Then it happened, Gibbs told them that the Damocles and gone down off the coast of Somalia and there were no survivors. He had lost a friend, a teammate and a partner and his last memories of her were of the hatred he'd seen in her eyes as she looked at him and accused him of cold-blooded murder and betrayal.

The anger of being denied an opportunity to put things right between them, burned inside him for weeks and finally drove him to tell Gibbs that they had an obligation to Ziva to ensure that Saleem Ulman did not take one more life.

His lips formed a small smile at the memory of McGee's shocked expression when he'd refused to grab his gear as ordered. The Probie had obviously expected a confrontation to ensue but Gibbs was an easy sell – he had been feeling the same and knew, first hand, the all-powerful need for vengeance.

Several days later, he'd found himself strapped to a chair in a terrorist bunker with McGee feigning unconsciousness on the floor. They'd shot him full of Sodium Pentothal and a cocktail of other unknown drugs, just as he'd expected they would.

It took every ounce of training and guile to fight the effects of the serum - to tell Saleem only what he wanted him to know – no more no less. To keep the terrorist interested and talking until Gibbs and the Seal team could get into position and gain the element of surprise.

He knew if he had weakened, given in to the drug and divulged the plan, they would all be killed.

When she was dragged in and seated in front of him, the relief that she was still alive had almost cost him the tenuous fight against the serum. The fury and hatred was gone from her eyes leaving emptiness; an acceptance of defeat and a look that she was ready to die. He was well aware what happened to women held captive in such circumstances and he fought the bile in the back of his throat as he imagined the horrors she'd endured.

Saleem laid out his ultimatum – one of them would tell him what he wanted to know and the others would die

Even after Saleem had left them alone in the room, he'd continued to fight the serum, talking nonsense, rambling. What was the truth and what was not – only he knew for certain. He bided his time, not even telling Ziva that Gibbs and the Seals were close by – he hoped that fact would become obvious in just a few moments.

Saleem returned seeking answers and ready to kill for them and his heart stopped when she tried to sacrifice herself – telling Saleem to kill her and take the Americans. No way – they hadn't travelled halfway around the world to watch her die in front of them.

Then the moment came and, right on time, Saleem's head was shattered by a bullet from Gibbs' sniper rifle - they were going home.

The dim light from the apartment directly across the road grew brighter as the buxom woman drew back the living room drapes. From his balcony vantage point he'd seen her dutifully cook breakfast and send her man off with a passionate kiss. He shook his head as he wondered what her night-shift working husband would think.

Straightening, he stepped back inside and headed for the bathroom, he wasn't going to get anymore sleep tonight, might as well get ready for work. He twisted the faucets and allowed the water to warm as he undressed, then stepped under the shower, groaning as the hot spray massaged the strain from his aching shoulders and he rested his forehead against the tiled wall.

Yesterday, she'd stepped into the bullpen for the first time in weeks and to the untrained eye she'd looked well, she'd looked confident, beautiful – she'd looked…normal. He had stared at the fragility, the tension, and the internal wounds still open and raw but visible only to someone who knew her well…someone like a partner.

She had cornered him in the men's room to catch him off guard and gain the upper hand. Let's face it; it's not easy to be taken seriously with your manhood on display! At first, he'd been angry - he'd never been a fan of her 'ninja' sneaking, it was downright creepy and it was getting so a guy couldn't take a leak without her popping up out of nowhere. He thought he'd made it clear that he was ready and willing to talk to her, but the head wasn't the location he'd had in mind.

Perhaps he should talk to Gibbs about swapping "conference rooms" with Ziva – then she could use the elevator and he could re-take the men's room for the sake of his brother agents.

She'd immediately gone on the attack, listing what she perceived were _his_ mistakes. Breaking protocol, coming to her home without sufficient back up. He'd wondered if she would ever accept that his actions were to cover for her and give her the opportunity to explain why she continued to harbour Rivkin. He held his tongue.

She told him how close she had come to killing him. '_Great_', he thought, '_then one of us would be dead and one would have been feeling incredibly stupid when Rivkin's deception was revealed_.' Again he choked back his bitter retort.

She told him that she had trusted Ari and Michael and could not afford to trust him, too. '_Why the hell not?' _he'd wanted to demand. _'Ari and Rivkin were Mossad spies and assassins, trained to kill without hesitation or conscience.' _Did she _really_ consider him in that league or was she still refusing to accept that her own deception led them down this path? If she had truly thought Rivkin innocent, why had she ordered a forced extraction?

He had a much bigger list of his own that he could have thrown back at her but what was the point? They had all suffered enough. So he sucked it up – took another one for the team.

Then, finally, she apologised – she acknowledged that she should have known that he has always had her back. He was so relieved to hear those words that he snatched at them and held on tight, wanting to move on.

She'd reached up to gently place a kiss on his cheek. He'd stood stock-still, unsure of what to say to her but needing desperately to leave the nightmare of the past few months behind. He wanted it over for himself – but more so, for her.

So he donned yet another mask and suppressed his own hurt, anger and resentment at her accusations of jealousy, killer and betrayal. The painful memories of the hatred in her eyes, her preference that Rivkin had killed him instead and the feel of her loaded gun pressed in anger against his stomach and thigh, were vanquished to the deepest corner of his mind and he hoped he had the strength to keep them there.

So now she was back, re-joining the team and he was happy about that – he really was. She was safe and surrounded by people who care about her and wanted to protect her – perhaps, this time, she'd trust them enough to let them.

Could they work together again as teammates – he genuinely hoped they could. Without thought to any personal cost, he was determined to hold his new mask in place if it helped her transition. But it remained to be seen whether they could ever again recapture the unconditional trust of partners.

Some things could be forgiven, not forgotten.

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Thank you for reading our very first collaboration and for the many kind reviews, alerts and PM's. Thanks, also, to all of those readers who read along quietly in the background.

We now declare Groundhog Day, officially over.

**Lyn and Laine**


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